


so indefinite as to be indefinable

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 19:17:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It goes like this: their shadows become misshapen, tall and hungry and swallowing the dark- in the unlit corners of the room, monsters trying to eat each other.





	so indefinite as to be indefinable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sparkinthedark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkinthedark/gifts).



> not actually as unrequited as the quotes make it seem. i have proof via prompt:
> 
> "hux and kylo's purely physical relationship isn't enough for them any more. they both crave affection so much and eventually tell each other that. cue a really loving passionate night that's just super intense."
> 
> minor elements of "kylo and hux figure out that they work really well together, grow to respect each other for their different skills, and rule side by side. the galaxy is doomed."

> _The Portuguese call it saudade: a longing for something so indefinite as to be indefinable._
> 
> **Anthony De Sa, Barnacle Love**
> 
>  
> 
> _There is electricity dripping from me like cream; there is love dripping from me I cannot use—like acacia or jacaranda—fallen blue and gold flowers, crushed into the street._
> 
> **Diane Wakoski, Blue Monday**

 

**i.**

There is not quite a first time. What they become escalates from the proximity of two enemies in constant orbit. In this case the line between loathing and desire draws itself in sand and ignores its own fallacy. Nothing lasts, the tide rises and everything washes away. And one day Ren shows up in his quarters, and the next week it is Hux who bypasses Ren's security to be met by a saber two inches from his neck, and then by gloved hands in his hair, lightsaber tossed away and Hux thrown onto the bed, their hands and arms and limbs still tangled.

In a manner of speaking, it is inevitable. And if you called it predetermination, it would not be far off the mark. For when you narrow it down to these names; Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren written on the same space, the realm of possibility thins to a dot on the page.

 

**ii.**

It falls into a pattern. Becomes predictable. Within weeks. Months. An eternity that they have been doing this, an eternity more that waits- and everything feels infinite, the universe does not yet conspire against them.

Ren's lips on his throat, teeth sinking down. His mouth hot as he soothes the bite he makes with his tongue. Hux twists his fingers, digs his nails close to Ren's scalp, hears his hiss echo in the empty room.

It stops being about power and becomes a matter of need. Of filling the empty parts in them that they overlay with platitudes of duty and control.

They don't kiss.

 

**iii.**

It stops being enough.

(What did you expect?)

They find each other in darkened corridors, in the dark of their own quarters; they press their hands and legs and skin together and their edges are all wrong, there is nothing right about how they fit.

(Something inside them both, struggling until they are ragged at the seams. It goes like this: their shadows become misshapen, tall and hungry and swallowing the dark- in the unlit corners of the room, monsters trying to eat each other.)

On the bed, Ren comes with a sigh. His arms bracketing Hux's head. His lips nearly brushing Hux's mouth.

For a moment, neither of them move.

Ren turns his head. Hux loosens his grip on the fabric of Ren's shirt.

Later, alone, Hux struggles for breath, lungs tight as he sucks in too much air, until the ache inside twists and leaves. Unknowing, Ren does the same, a weakness he finds himself unable to purge.

They ignore it.

(It is the worst thing they can do.)

 

**iv.**

Snoke dies. Hux almost shoots Ren. The Supreme Leader changes his name and Hux is promoted and nothing is as it was before and everything is the same.

 _Does this change anything?_ He asks, the first time when the door slides shut behind Ren, and they know both the answer. It is something of a relief to know; that the Knight (the Supreme Leader) will still come to him. He sheds his jacket and there is no helmet for Ren to remove now, the scar draped down one eye is harsh and the expression on his face is strangely contrasting, oddly unguarded.

(He had been surprised, the first time he saw Ren's face. A face unmarred by war- too expressive, a boy's face that did not fit his body, his hulking strength. Little wonder he wore a mask, to hide that weakness. It had been contempt then, a mingling of disdain and supposed superiority.)

(Now, he is oddly grateful for it.)

They fall onto the bed and Ren's fingers are on his neck, tentative, unsure- tracing the marks he'd made. It becomes an apology in soft touches and tender motions, his head dipping to press a kiss to the pale skin of Hux's throat. Eyes darting up as he does, unsure if he is allowed. Hux's mouth twists, and Ren misses the moment his expression is stricken before it turns ugly. He swallows, feels the ache in his vocal chords turn to a sting, slaps Ren's hand away.

 _I don't need that_. He says, licking his lips. And ' _that_ ' could mean anything, but his throat is tight and he brings his hand up instead, wrenches Ren's head up until he is looking down at Hux, until Hux's fingers hurt from gripping too tight. _I don't need it_.

 _Alright_ , Ren agrees, perfectly courteous. And then when they fuck, he is careful not to let his touches linger too long. But he does not leave bruises either. He is not gentle and he cannot be rough, and the next time when Hux pulls him down he breathes a word against the pale flesh of Hux's collarbone that does not make it under the skin.

(It goes deeper, though neither of them know it yet.)

 

**v.**

It is not enough, and the ache it leaves in them is expressed only in almosts.

Ren almost hesitates, turning away, sitting up from the bed. Hux almost reaches for him. The Knight stands and Hux's fingers are in the space his palm had rested, pushing himself up. They speak in half-sentences and words that do not make it past their throats. A language of  _almost_ and _not-quite_.

When Hux dreams, he dreams in fragments, to the sensation of tender touches, dark eyes that soften on seeing him. Wakes aching, the skeletal remains of his vision a ghost that follows him during the day.

It's pitiable. Unforgivable.

 

**vi.**

In the end it happens like this. Another defeat. Hux in his room, his head in his hands. The war is being lost and there is no recourse for this kind of failure- only the bitterness of defeat, the disgust (and something else- something Ren can't tell, hidden beneath the statistics and layers of carefully constructed thought that make his mind so impenetrable). Ren does not say anything as he enters.

He leaves his saber on the side-table, sheds his outer robes and boots, is barefoot as he crosses to Hux, touches the tips of his fingers to the Marshal's cheek.

The man looks up. Expression unreadable.

They go down onto the bed together, a push and pull motion as if it is the sea pushing them down. More inexorable than the sea. Ren presses their mouths together and if he wants it to be soft, Hux is unwilling to play along. Teeth white and sharp, biting down until he draws blood and Ren jerks back in a hiss, blood trickling from his lower lip. He doesn't lick it clean. Doesn't strike Hux.

"Hurt me," Hux says, and it's almost a command. As if he expects Ren to listen. And then. Quieter. A vein of self-contempt.  _I want to be hurt_.

Ren is still and says nothing. And when he holds him down, he holds him tenderly. Nothing to the motion except his palms against the rabbit-fast pulse in Hux's wrists, covering Hux's body with his own, until his weight becomes an anchor. Until Hux has stopped struggling and somehow there are tear tracks on his cheeks, and the arms with which Ren held him down wrap around his smaller frame and turn to an embrace. And he presses his mouth in kisses to the man's shoulder, murmurs in a soothing voice that bleeds from words to a gentle hum. He holds him until even the tremors have fallen still.

And then when he lets go, Hux reaches up to pull him back. They stay like that for a time, silent.

 _I want_ \- Hux says, eventually. And then nothing else.

It's enough. Hux exhales, tips his head up and Ren meets him with a kiss, palm on palm, fingers curled together. Every word becomes unspoken.

 _I know_. _I know_.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i sort of ran with the prompt and made it my own a little because i love angst too much but i hope you like it!


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